Dr. Faustus, it would seem, is in he’ll. Lead there by Mephistopholes after entreating Helen, Christ, and the elements (in that order). He fulfills his part of the contract, rending his soul to Lucifer. But what did Faustus get?

Surprisingly, the play is short on magical reads. Yes, he travels around the world, turns invisible, torments the pope, raises spirits, and puts horns upon a man’s head. But that’s just what he ‘does.’ What he wants is knowledge. Within moments of signing himself over he starts asking Mephistopholes for books. The first is about necromancy, but the other two are cosmolgical and biological. Faust wants to know. While a workable example of the first volume is beyond our grasp, the latter are rather commonplace today. We have access to Faust’s knowledge on our phones. Which is not to say that an iPhone would have kept him out of he’ll.

Our want to know is not diminished. I read Marlowe’s Faustus because I’m creating a paper theatre narrative that requires a play within a play. My main character, Alexander, sees a paper theatre performance of Dr. Faustus. This inspires him to his own pursuit of knowledge discovery and containment.

Our want to know is it’s own damnation, because it’s never enough. After all, there’s always more to know. But it’s not just that. I think we’re hardwired to acquire information. And the pursuit can be an avoidance. Once we capture it, we don’t know what to do.